The focused phalanx of Gothenburg legends return in gloom to Melodic Death Metal.
Words by Jake Sanders (@themetalscholar):
The heightened expectations that come from a band with a legacy diving back into the studio almost always skew towards ‘cautiously optimistic’. It's a low bar that is meant to remind listeners that they're no longer in their prime, and to temper expectations.
Dark Tranquillity has never, under any circumstances, compromised on their original quality. For over thirty years now, the Gothenburg powerhouse of melodic death metal majesty has taken the expectations that the world set for their peers, crumpled them into a tiny ball of paper, and set it ablaze to keep their fingers warm, while they write magic.
That's what we're dealing with today, metalheads. Pure, unfiltered, post-pandemic depressive sessions coming from the halls of a group who has soberly honed their craft through significant lineup changes in recent years. The results speak for themselves. If you've ever loved the work Dark Tranquillity puts into crafting catchy hooks, memorably riffs, electronic layers, and lyrical mastery, then you know that disappointment was never part of the formula before, and it's not about to become part of it.
Endtime Signals is the excavation of a musical backdrop that only reinforces what's powerful about the group: their profound ability to adapt to various lineup changes, and still create a sonic chorus that rings true to their progression as pioneers of the genre.
Those inclined to the Dark Tranquillity formula will undoubtedly see the pattern playing out from side A to side B. It's a distinction factor that sets them apart from their peers; one that compels the group to arrange their songs in a painstakingly deliberate order, crafting an arrangement that is not only satisfying, but feels as if it could be done no other way. From the first somber statement of Shivers and Voids, the pickup is an immediate breath of fresh air, not just from the sound signature of Dark Tranquillity of twenty years ago, but also that of 2020's Moment, which captivated many with its dynamic introduction track that was groovy, and hard-hitting from the first click.
It's a thematic upheaval of the traits that held tight to DT's familiar sound, more than likely because the lead guitar that audiences will experience takes a hardline stance against imitating the familiar riffs, licks, and chords of Niklas Sundin. Out in front now, the unique style of Johan Reinholdz has risen as the standard-bearer, and we couldn't be more fortunate to hear its immediate evolution. Still bouncy in execution, these leads are liquidly delicious, often dancing a high-wire of soothing falsettos that range from songbird melodies, to left field surprises like a bendy blues solo that capture the ears at-once.
It's a system shock that lays out a beauty buried beneath despair, and a semi-permanent depression that takes center stage when it counts. Rounding off both sides of this twelve track opus, and what this critic feels could stand as the most intimate, and moving of the set, are two sister ballads, comprising the end of both sides of this mirrored album, a clever gambit for a clever band, always looking for subtle paths to show their true talent.
Aptly titled One of Us Is Gone, and False Reflection, these tracks are what any true DT believer will hear as the strongest faithful branch of ages past. Much akin to Time Out of Place, In Truth Divided, or The Mundane and the Magic, these killers have only reinforced the growing list of melancholy monoliths that stand side by side in this third age of the Dark Tranquillity catalogue. These are a needed addition to the set, a sort of break in the high energy pace that has built a legacy of quality melodic death metal, with electronic elements. It's precisely what one hopes for, with a multifaceted vocalist at the helm.
Endtime Signals can't bring back the clarity of Character (2005). It won't slake the thirst of rage that Fiction (2007) pours like a waterfall. It doesn't dredge the inferiority complex of the soul like Construct (2013), and bring it to the surface like a wound. It probably won't showcase the disputes in the monotony of life, like Moment.
But what it accomplishes here, that this die-hard academic of the DT sound landscape hasn't found elsewhere, is its vulnerability. It's willing to expose real tough topics of hopelessness, such as profound personal loss, losing touch while trying to hold on for dear life, and the vain hope that someone will see them for who they are, rather than who the world believes them to be.
A bit ago, I was fortunate enough to sit down for a meeting of minds with the one, and only Mikael Stanne, to discuss the new album, their rainbow of album intricacies, and the world through the eyes of the Melodic Death Metal titan.
On behalf of Heaviest of Art — thank you for being here.
"Endtime Signals" marks the thirteenth stop on the DT voyage, a group that has discussed everything from the world's sense of impending doom, to the ontological argument, making structure from the chaos around us, and the internal struggle against a world that fights back against information. What is left to discuss? What topic do you broach next? What is the next great unspoken concept?
Ooooh. I think for this one is was kind of... despair, and helplessness. The feeling of not being enough to anyone, basically. Frustration. Not being able to help out where we were needed. That feeling of despair and the loss of optimism. I've always considered myself to be an optimist, saying "things are gonna be fine — it'll work itself out," but I don't know. Lately, I just haven't felt that. It became kind of a driving force for the album, just to let out all that negativity that we might feel. It helped shape the album, for sure.
It's all about that doom, man. After you got into "Encircled", on "Atoma" (2016) — I know I read that you were sort of telling your daughter, "these are the things I have to line up for you." You can feel that sense of encroaching doom, coming in. It's worldwide, at this point. After the pandemic, how could you not feel it?
Yeah, I think so. Rather than just go, "yeah — let's move on," we decided to head deeper into it, and take comfort, that we could at least write about it, and turn it into something creative.
For years I've been saying that the three things extreme metal should embrace for their growth are clean vocals, electronics, and piano/keyboard. DT takes ahold of that with both hands, and hasn't let go for decades. Has the group received a lot of backlash for being experimental with your sound, or has the (FINAL) *wink* resistance been counted, and people have come around to progressive change?
*laughs* The first album, maybe, where some of our friends, and the people who heard it were like "what's goin' on here? Is this about to be death metal? There's acoustic guitars, clean singing, female vocals, keyboards as well." That's what we had in mind when we started the band. It should be different. It shouldn't sound like anything else, or rather like everything else. Push boundaries. It wasn't like, "hey — let's add all these different weird instruments for the hell of it." These are the kind of sounds that we like, and this is what we like about music; let's see if we can combine it."
Of course, we learned not to do it properly a few albums down the line, but that was the starting point. Sure, there are people who go, "Bah. No keyboards in metal, and no clean singing." Fine. Awesome. Go for it. I love all kinds. Of course, I get tired of ‘musical’ bands rather than going, "we'll add this, or that." Fine, but the song is the most important thing.
You cannot disguise a bad song with elements. It has to be a good song, first and foremost, and then you can add whatever you want to it. If it makes it better — awesome. If it adds something, all the better. For us, that's the part that's important. We write the songs first, make sure we have the rhythm, the pace, the chords, the melodies, the risks. That kind of stuff. If it needs something else, like layers of electronics, or analogue synths — awesome. If we need to add a clean part in one section of a song, then yeah, if it benefits the song, that's what we do.
It was always that for us. It's not for everybody, and that's not the point, either.
Consistency is key; I think when people hear, and they know you're doing something good with it, nobody would listen to "The Mundane and the Magic", and go, "well, that doesn't sound like that belongs there." It just fits like a glove.
I feel the same way.
Many groups have strengths, but Dark Tranquillity, to this day, holds the crown on album arrangement. Whether it's "The New Build/My Negation", "Shadow in our Blood/Iridium", "For Broken Words/None Becoming", or "Nothing to No One/The Mundane & the Magic", DT has perfected this art of being able to bookend your albums with two pillars on either side. Where did this idea of "start strong, finish stronger" start?
I love the album format. I grew up with it, and I can't stand listening to just singles, or even EPs. I love that format. Forty-five, to fifty-five minutes, something like that. That's what I grew up listening to, and how I prefer to listen to it. Albums. You want it to matter all the way through, you want it to have these highs, and lows, and a good mix of songs, so it doesn't fizzle out by song number five, or something like that. "Oh yeah, we just had all our best songs in the beginning, and now you're stuck with the rest!"
So yeah, it's torturous work sometimes. You go, "what the hell? What do we start with?" Sometimes it's by committee. We supply our own playlists (all of us). Then somehow, through the process of democracy, we find a way to make it so everybody is happy, eventually. I guess we have kind of a similar idea. Especially nowadays, we'll go, "yeah, we know what song to start with." You'll normally know what to finish with, but then "what's the first on Side-B? What's the song that ends Side-A?" That's how I feel, or think about it. It's not easy, but it's also fun. We end up listening to different versions of the album arrangement forever, until it just feels right, and then we go, "PRINT IT."
You guys have that momentum. I usually arrange things in a different playlist, just so I can be like, "this is how the album should be," but I can't do that with DT, and I know you said EPs are a no-go, but DAMN, dude; The "Zero Distance" (2011) EP is canonically the side-C of "We Are The Void" (2010). You can't listen to it without it. It has to be attached!
I've never thought of it that way. Maybe you're right.
EPs are fine, because then you can really pack four fantastic songs on there. Awesome. I do like that format, actually, but it's hard to get right.
It is. I try to bring people into the fold by telling 'em, "hey look, dude. DT has a sandwich of fuckin' songs! One side, another side, and you squeeze towards the middle." I think that's how people effectively inhale the product, so to speak. *laughs*
Over the years, you guys have been pioneers in not just sound, but also the courage to tour where no one else goes. You've been the first to stop in cities you didn't know about, and you've accepted gigs at great personal risk to please groups of fans who've wanted to see you in their respective back yard for their entire lives. Your band has more international cheers than a football team. What advice do you have for bands looking to branch out into places that don't have a huge support system for artists? What are the risks?
To us, the risks are not that great. I think, especially touring North America, for us, we realized that you can do it comfortably. You can do it so you have a few days off here, and there, every week. Just to travel, and see the country. But, it doesn't make for a financially successful tour. It also feels weird. I don't like to be away from home, even though I travel a lot. I don't want to waste time away from home. Sometimes you do three, or four shows in a row, and then you have a day off. We don't like that. We'd rather play every day, so you get home earlier.
That means instead of covering long distances over two days of travel in a tour bus, we play every day. Sometimes we play in, as you've said, cities that I've never heard of, never knew existed. Sometimes you go, "that was strange," but most of the time it's awesome, and there's a certain vibe to that, too. You come to a place that maybe people don't expect, and suddenly we're in a room together, and you're having a blast. It's really cool to see that kind of surprise.
Here in Europe, as well, when we come to a new city, in a country we've played a few times, you can tell there's a different kind of anticipation. Depending on where it is, geographically, it can mean they just don't go to shows that often, because it's too far from any of the big, major cities. That makes it even more special.
It's the same thing in Sweden, as well; we normally just play Stockholm, and Gothenburg. Malmö, maybe. But, going to smaller cities can be an absolute blast, so I like it. If we go out on tour, we want to play every single day, if possible.
Not to totally shit on my own country here, but can I ask you, as a guy who's been doing this forever — is there a lack of hospitality in the North American touring department? Should we be taking from the European example on that, to make you, the artist, feel more at-home, or welcome?
It's very different, for sure. The average venue in America is like, "It's here, we're open, come in, do your thing, get the hell out." I'm totally fine with that. I kind of like it. That means that we're left to our own devices, and we take care of everything. I really like it.
It's a big contrast, and a big difference to how it's like in Europe, where all the venues are made for touring companies to come and hang out. It's easier like that. I really don't mind it, I like it. The difference is that we just take care of ourselves, when we tour. That becomes a thing in itself, that you don't do in Europe. I prefer it, actually.
There are tons of venues, of course, that are incredible, and super cool. But even the worst ones are FINE. This is something that I really don't mind, as long as it's clean, and it works, and there's someone there to unlock the doors, and help us out if we need it. Maybe it's harder work for our crew guys who are working all day, but overall, I really don't mind it. I think it's a cool thing.
Fair enough; I've only ever gotten to hear a lot of the negative. People are like, "when you go to Europe, they drape a towel over you, and give you a back massage before you get on stage!" I have to ask, is it really that different?
It's not EVERY night, you know. It happens, of course, but not necessarily every single night. *laughs*
What I love, when you come to a cool club in Germany, or something like that — where they're very proud of their establishment. They take pride in having you as guests there, and they make sure everybody feels cool, and has a great time. You can have a great meal, and a great experience. It's cool to come back to venues like that, where they know your name, and they've seen you a bunch of times, and tell you it'll be even better than last time.
At the same time, we're experienced enough that we don't need any of that, and we can be fine by ourselves, as well. That's what happens most of the time in America. I can't complain about it. We've kind of decided to go without. We don't need anything from venues, basically. If there's cold water somewhere, fine. The rest we take care of.
That's a nice attitude to have, especially in an age where they're decreasing some of the benefits for musicians out there.
Well, true — that's a bigger issue when it comes to money, and the cost of everything. In terms of the basic needs, when you get to a venue. As long as you're ready for it, it's worth it when you come to a place like that in Europe, where you're expecting it.
Things that come with experience, right?
So — I know what my favorites are:
"Drag me down, in passionate sighs, with the ocean above me, and flames in my eyes" (Lethe)
"It's all in the future. What's said with one foot in the grave. It's all in the plan .Well what we never could achieve" (The New Build)
"I want to see you show - Disgust for sympathy, honour and bravery. I know you're faking it, So take a look around" (Zero Distance)
Those are mine, now. I clutch to them with prejudice because, as a writer, those are words too well written to be discarded between playlists. Who are your wordsmiths, though? Who humbles you when they create lyrical content?
Ooh. Hmm. It's almost like I try not to think about it too much.
I read lyrics, but I try not to pick up on it too much, because I'm afraid that will change the way I write, or something. I'm a bit afraid of being too interested. I don't listen to a lot of music with vocals, when we are writing. I listen to instrumental music, most of the time, just to kind of clear my head, and not obsess over something. You go like, "aw, that could've been better recorded," or "that phrasing is a bit off." That kind of stuff.
Back in the day, the reason I started writing lyrics was not necessarily the most brutal death metal bands that dealt with Satan worship, or horror movie fandom. It was bands like... Sabbat, From England, I think were the biggest inspiration.
Martin Walkyier wrote lyrics about books that he read that were fantastical, and incredible, and that really spoke to me. That it was kind of intense thrash, but it was something else, you know? There was a purpose to it, a mystique about it, that wasn't folklore, or weird superstition, or anything like that. Just cool, interesting stories, and concepts that blew me away.
I remember me, and Niklas (Sundin), as we started the band, we were like, "we need to add that to our brand of death metal," that we were about to start. Just so we could feel different, we started reading the same kind of books that our favorite lyricists read, and tried to get into that feeling of, "how do you construct lyrics?" and "what inspiration should you take?" rather than listening to other lyricists, or bands.
So it became me, and Niklas, just borrowing books at the library. Sitting at home, trying to figure it out. We ended up sharing lyric-writing duties the first couple of years. It was just a matter of finding our tone, and our language, and what was suitable for our music. Nowadays, I read as much as I can, just to feel inspired to write, to spark creativity. That's what I want.
Sometimes I'm sitting here going, "I'm just repeating myself. This is the most boring thing in the world, and I can't come up with anything new." I'll take a break for a week or so like that, catch up on my reading list, and usually you come back to it, and hopefully find a fresh perspective, or a new idea that feels interesting.
But more than anything, I think I take inspiration from reality, and the sad state of affairs.
That's a little bit too real, too. You can do a lot of doom-scrolling, like that.
Oof, yeah.
Can I ask what you read on the build up to "Endtime Signals"?
Cormac McCarthy is one of my favorite authors, so I always kind of come back to some of his books, like Blood Meridian, The Road.
I have a lot of Swedish poets that are really, really cool, and actually have this Scandinavian way of thinking of things, It's not the most self-affirming, boasting, self-confident in the world. It's more like, stories, and reflections about how insignificant, and pointless we are. That's the kind of thing that I'm drawn to. It feels good, sometimes, to read that knowing that there's someone else out there who feels the same, or similar to what you're experiencing.
When I think of the Swedes, too, most of the music out there is the sad, and the evil stuff. But there's so much Scandinavian lore, and art that has inspired the rest of the world. Nobody looks at Edvard Munch because they want to be stoked, or excited, or celebrate what they're looking at. They look at it because they want to feel terror, or that dark sense.
For sure, there's a lot of melancholy. We don't really have religion, or anything to fall back on [spiritually]. Reality can be rough sometimes, and that sparks creativity, instead of worship, maybe.
Pinch me — it sounds like Heaven, man.
Oh, ho-ho yeeeeah, ya like it?
Endtime Signals is available now via Century Media (Listen).
